


Waste No Time

by sweetxtangerine



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Extramarital Affairs, Light Masochism, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 11:10:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6077163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetxtangerine/pseuds/sweetxtangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hamilton never intended to fall in love with his best friend. </p>
<p>Having a wife whom he loves only makes that complication even more complicated.</p>
<p>He takes and he takes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waste No Time

**Author's Note:**

> A somewhat off timeline where Hamilton's marriage, the war, and Laurens' death are all shifted a little to serve my own purposes.  
> Honestly, all I know about the history of this time period is the clothing, and what I learned from Hamilton.

1.

John is clinging to Alexander like he is his lifeline, as if the very action of uncurling his fists from Alexander’s nightshirt, untangling their legs, would end the world.

It’s comforting, and wrong, Alex knows. Very wrong.

John’s breath is hot and heavy on Alexander’s neck and he’s at the point of sleep where he’s almost snoring, and Hamilton wishes he could sleep too, wishes he could turn off his mind and stop the racing questions and condemnations that speed through his brain as Laurens, at peace with the world, clutches him.

 

Eliza is upstate at her father's place so of course they had been round the pub with Gilbert and Herc and Alexander had drank just enough to loosen up a little, (while John had drank enough to float a battleship), and by the end of the night after some rousing speeches and a strong abolitionist discussion, Alexander had invited John to stay in his quarters— _nothing implied_. He simply didn’t want the poor man to have to travel halfway across town when John was blind drunk and so unsteady on his feet.

It wasn’t until Alex opened his door that he had realised that they’d never slept in the same room before, let alone shared a bed.

In the dim candlelight, an orange glow illuminated the room, accentuating the shadows; John had been grinning and swaying on the spot and Alex was overwhelmed by the man in front of him, all freckles and teeth and he was the most beautiful thing that Alex had ever seen. John wasted no time shrugging off his coat and dropping it, gracelessly, on the floor. Without breaking eye contact, he pulled off his cravat, unbuttoned his waistcoat and flung it unceremoniously, slipped off his braces and dropped his breeches. He stepped out of them and left them on the floor. Alexander had to stifle a laugh when John did a little dance on each foot while pulling off his stockings, swaying dangerously with each hop.

When he was in nothing but his shirt, he grinned at Alex shamelessly through bleary eyes, as if ignorant of his own lack of clothing, and pulled him into an embrace. Alexander stiffened, not expecting the touch.

“Good night, my dear Hamilton,” Laurens whispered in his ear, and then tripped his way into bed, pulling the covers tight over him.

In slow silence, Alex extinguished the few lamps and stripped too in the darkness, careful to pile his clothing separate from John’s.

John’s breathing quickly evened out, calm and deep, and as Alexander slipped into the bed he hoped not to disturb him.

It seemed, however, that John was a heat seeking missile. Alex had barely a chance to get comfortable when John rolled over and snuck his hands around Alex. Their legs intertwined and one of John’s hands fisted the linen of his nightshirt, just above his belly, and Alex became so conscious of every breath he took. Afraid to move and disturb John, to lose this touch and this warmth. Afraid the admit, even to himself, how good this felt, how much he wanted, no,  _needed_ , this closeness. Alexander thought of his wife and he thought of himself and then he thought of the freckles that mapped Laurens' face and he relaxed into the touch and let John press his lips into his shoulder.

John held Alexander close until morning.

 

2.

"Hey Gil, you ever been in love with two people at once?" Hamilton slurs at Lafayette, slamming his glass of whiskey down harder than he'd intended. 

It's just the two of them and they've been out drinking so late the morning light is beginning to peek through the seams of the building.

The Frenchman raises an eyebrow at him from across the table, but he doesn't laugh, and that's more than Alex could have hoped for.

"Is this about Monsieur Laurens?" He asks.

Hamilton gawks. "Am I really that transparent?"

Lafayette snorts. "You should just tell him, Alex."

"But I'm married. And I love Eliza."

"There's a war going on. You'll regret it if you don't and something happens to either of you."

Hamilton sits back and raises his glass to his lips again.

 

3.

“I love you.” Hamilton tells him, and it’s a declaration but it’s a quiet one, a shameful one, and Laurens can hardly believe that Alexander is actually blushing.

“I love you, too.” John says, and normally a reciprocated declaration of love is a happy thing but John can see how the words pain Hamilton and how he draws in on himself. John stares at Alexander as if trying to peer into his soul.

“I love Eliza, too.” Hamilton says, and John understands why he’s so hesitant. John has a wife, too.

“I can’t leave her, John,” He chokes, “I can’t leave my wife.”

John nods.

“I’m not asking you to.”

Alexander stares at him.

“She is good for you,” He continues, “And I am not. But I do love you.”

Alex exhales deeply, contemplating. John steps forward and rubs a hand against Alex’s cheek, and Alexander melts into his touch, his brow knit. His expression is hungry and tormented.

“Let me bring you peace of mind," John whispers, breath hot on Alexander's face, "Tell me you want this.”

Alex swallows. “I want this.”

“Tell me you love me.” John strokes his cheek.

“I love you.”

“Tell me how you want this.”

Hamilton pauses.

“Fast. Hard. I want it to hurt.”

John pulls back slightly. Alex hopes he hasn't said the wrong thing. “Alexander, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Please, John.”

John frowns but nods and tilts his head towards Alex, brushing his lips in a hesitant kiss. Alex leans in closer and John guides him by the shoulder and they kiss slowly, gently, until Alexander is pressed up against the wall, and then it becomes more fervent and careless and John presses harder and they become a clash of teeth and tongues and just as Hamilton is about to break away for air, Laurens bites hard on his lip, hard enough to draw blood.

Alex pulls back, inhaling sharply, surprised that John took it so far so quickly. He runs a quick tongue over his lip and when he tastes the blood he groans.

"Please, John," he says again, almost smiling this time, and Laurens strokes his cheek again, far too gently, before starting to undress him. 

John starts slowly, untying Alexander's cravat. Alex sighs and tilts his head back, baring his neck. John pulls the cravat off, unbuttons his collar and licks a stripe up his throat, gently grazing his teeth from Hamilton's jaw to collarbone.

Alex moans loudly at the touch and it ignites a spark of desperation in John, and now he grinds his erection against him, pleased to feel Alexander's is as hard as he is, and he undresses him, next unbuttoning his waistcoat. He throws it aside and yanks Alex's braces off his shoulders, untucks his shirt from his breeches and pulls it over Alexander's head, leaving him only in his breeches and stockings. He takes only a moment to admire at the skinny young man in front of him.

Laurens drags his fingernails down Alex's back, eliciting a shudder, and then trails kisses, nipping occasionally, from his collarbone to the waistband of his breeches. John slides to his knees and Hamilton is loud and so submissive, moaning at each touch. When John starts to lick at the trail of hair leading past his waistband, he palms his erection through the fabric and Alex weaves a hand through Johns hair and lets out a strangled moan.

"Yes, John, please-" 

That's all it takes. John fumbles with the buttons on the fall front of his breeches, doesn't even bother to unbutton the waistband or take the damn things off because he has what he needs. He pulls Alexander's length through the opening and smirks as Alex moans loudly. He strokes him smoothly, twisting his wrist in a way that he likes for himself, and is pleased when it makes Alex shudder. He runs a thumb over the slit and smears his pre-come around the head and Alexander is whining now, thrusting into John's hand, and John smiles up at him. Alex stills for a moment, and then John licks him the length of his shaft and looks up at him.

"Do you want it like this?" John asks, and Alex squirms.

"Yes, I-"

John takes his cock in his mouth and licks the head, sucking gently, lightly grazing his teeth along the length enough to provide extra stimulation but not enough to hurt. He swallows him whole and pulls Alex's hand to feel his cock in his throat, and Alexander is possibly the most vocal man John has ever been with and the one he has loved the most and he lets Alexander fuck his face, his eyes watering, one hand holding his hips, the other down his pants, working himself.

Hamilton's moans become more shallow, more needy, his balls tight, and Laurens is sure Alex is about to come, but Alex pushes him away.

"No, it's fine," he starts, "I want to swallow-"

Hamilton shakes his head, "No, I-"

John gazes up at him through damp eyelashes.

"I want you to fuck me."

"Oh."

Hamilton pulls Laurens to his feet and starts undressing him, kissing him between each article of clothing that is taken off, and takes off his own breeches and stockings, too.

Soon they're both completely naked and so hard, Alexander's cock dripping, heavy and hot, pressed against John's thigh. John kisses him again, grinds against him and they stumble towards his bed. Alexander crawls back and sprawls across the bed and he looks so vulnerable and desperate.

"Please, John."

Laurens crawls on top of him and leans down to kiss him deeply.

"I love you, Alexander," he murmurs.

John prepares him, starting slowly but getting more rough as Hamilton whines and begs him to fuck him now, please.

Alex hooks his ankles on John's shoulders as he presses into him. 

"Faster," he begs, as John starts moving inside him, " _Harder_."

John fucks him rough.

John fucks him with one hand tearing at his smooth dark hair and the other wrapped Hamilton's throat (at Alexander's request). They kiss desperately and sloppily and Alexander pulls John's head into the crook of his neck and John bites him just hard enough that it might leave a mark.

"I love you," Alex mutters, "I love you, I love you, I'm sorry, I-"

"Come for me Alexander," 

He does, eyes closed and back arched, shooting a thick string of come across John's chest as he strokes John's cheek. He pulls John down for another kiss and with that John is over the edge, too, and comes with a shout.

 

They clean each other up and Hamilton invites him to bed, to stay the night. They hold each other until morning.

 

4.

"I have to go." John says. His orders were clear. Battle awaits.

"I know."

They stand in silence for a moment. John takes his hand and kisses it.

"Adieu, Laurens. Be safe. Be happy."

 

5.

Alexander nestles his head on Eliza's collarbone. They're both damp from sweat and sated, spent, basking in the glow of their orgasms. The midday sun illuminates the room, particles of dust catching in the sunbeams.

"I love you Eliza."

She kisses the top of his head. Their infant child rests in the next room.

After sex is one of the few times his mind is able to slow, when he doesn't feel like he's running out of time.

"Oh, I forgot to say, a letter arrived for you just this morning."

"Oh?" Alex looks at her.

"From a Mr Henry Laurens."

"John's father?"

Eliza shrugs on a robe and finds the letter. She hands it over to Alexander.

Before he even breaks the seal he knows, and his entire body goes numb. His hands begin to tremble.

> _On Tuesday the 27th, my son was killed in a gunfight against British troops retreating from South Carolina. The war was already over. As you know, John dreamed of emancipating and recruiting 3000 men for the first all-black military regiment. His dream of freedom for these men dies with him._

Eliza stares at him. His eyes dart back and forth across the page, as if trying to find a mistake. An error that would make the words not true. He would never again see his dear friend, hold him, kiss him, touch him-. Their affair would die with him.

"Alexander, are you alright?"

He tries to nod but he swallows hard instead and chokes as he says, "John is dead."

Eliza's eyes go wide and she runs to him. His knees give way and he falls to the ground, gasping. She holds him to her breast.

"Alexander, I'm so sorry."

He is, for once, speechless.

 

Lafayette is in America again, and he is happy to meet with Hamilton. He, too, despairs for the loss of their friend.

"You loved him," he says, and Alexander doesn't deny it.

"You loved him, too," Hamilton counters, weakly.

"Not in the way you loved him."

"No."

"Did he know?" He presses, and Hamilton's eyes are wet, he never wanted to cry in front of his friend, in front of a fellow soldier, and everything is numb to the touch, but he nods.

"Then he did not die without that knowledge," Lafayette whispers. "Sometimes that is all you can be thankful for."

Alexander considers this. He nods. They sit in silence.

He has so much work to do.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've been trying to finish other fics but this is what I write instead, cos I'm _awful_. Hamilton has consumed my life.


End file.
